A Prince of Sinners eBook

He touched her lips timorously. Then she sprang
away from him, her cheeks aflame, her eyes on fire,
her hair strangely ruffled. She pointed to the
door.

“Please go—­quickly.”

He picked up his hat.

“But, Mary! I—­”

“Please!”

She stamped her foot.

“But—­”

“I will write. You shall hear from me to-morrow.
But if you have any pity for me at all you will go
now—­this moment.”

He rose and went. She heard him turn the handle
of the door, heard his footsteps upon the stone stairs
outside.

She counted them idly. One, two, three, four
now he was on the next landing. She heard them
again, less distinctly, always less distinctly.
Then silence. She ran to the window. There
he was upon the pavement, now he was crossing the
road on his way to the underground station. She
tore at her handkerchief, waved it wildly for a moment—­and
then stopped. He was gone—­and she.
The hot colour came rushing painfully into her cheeks.
She threw herself face downwards upon the sofa.

CHAPTER IV

LORD ARRANMORE IN A NEW ROLE

“The epoch-making nights of one’s life,”
Mr. Hennibul remarked, “are few. Let us
sit down and consider what has happened.”

“A seat,” Lady Caroom sighed. “What
luxury! But where?”

“My knowledge of the geography of this house,”
Mr. Hennibul answered, “has more than once been
of the utmost service to me, but I have never appreciated
it more than at this moment. Accept my arm, Lady
Caroom.”

They made a slow circuit of the room, passed through
an ante-chamber and came out in a sort of winter-garden
looking over the Park. Lady Caroom exclaimed
with delight.

“You dear man,” she exclaimed. “Of
course I knew of this place—­isn’t
it charming?—­but I had no idea that we could
reach it from the reception-rooms. Let us move
our chairs over there. We can sit and watch the
hansoms turn into Piccadilly.”

“It shall be as you say,” he answered.
“I wonder if all London is as excited to-night
as the crowd we have just left.”

“To me,” she murmured, “London seems
always imperturbable, stonily indifferent to good
or evil. I believe that on the eve of a revolution
we should dine and go to the theatre, choose our houses
at which to spend the evening, and avoid sweet champagne
with the same care. You and I may know that to-night
England has thrown overboard a national policy.
Yet I doubt whether either of us will sleep the less
soundly.”

“Not only that,” he said, “but the
Government have to-day shown themselves possessed
of a penetration and appreciation of mind for which
I for one scarcely gave them credit. They have
made me a peer.”